And Yet Again
by Bad Faery
Summary: Missing scenes from "And Again." Each chapter stands alone, and all fit into the the main narrative.
1. The Sins of Onan

_Joseph knows he is doomed to burn for far worse sins than onanism.  
_

In the grand scheme of things, onanism barely counted as a sin. MacAvoy doubted there was a man alive who hadn't succumbed at one time or another, and if there was, he'd forward the name to Rome for consideration for canonization. Anyone who could do that would surely have two other miracles hidden somewhere. Even he, who rarely thought of women in anything but intellectual terms, occasionally had urges which were best dealt with quickly lest they distract from more important matters. Since he'd started drinking, those urges had become very rare indeed.

Even when he stopped drinking, they didn't return until the night he'd shared a pillow with Belle, rejoicing in the feeling of her breath on his face and longing to be closer, closer, _closer_ to his angel, and he was suddenly dealing with far more than vague urges. What had once been a biological impulse had taken on a far more emotional component. MacAvoy didn't want release; he wanted Belle's body against him, her lips under his, her sweet voice in his ear telling him that she was happy with him. He wanted to lose himself in her, to be one with his angel, however briefly.

Very cold showers, he'd found, were a satisfactory solution. He would stand under the frigid water and pray for forgiveness and the strength to protect Belle from his lust until the urge was conquered, and he could face her again with innocent eyes. Had she not tried to leave, he could have gone on happily thus.

But Belle did try to leave him, and he'd lost his mind, crushing his mouth to hers in desperation, and suddenly his urges had a sharp new focus. Instead of reflecting on her beauty or how nice it would be to hold her in his arms, he now _knew_ what her lips tasted like. He knew how soft and warm and sweet they were, and he longed to taste them again every moment of every day. He longed to know what other parts of her would taste like and how her lips would feel against other places on his body, and cold water was no longer a solution to his problem.

MacAvoy knew he was doomed to spending most of his afterlife in Purgatory at best, somewhere far hotter at worst, but he wouldn't burn for onanism. It was the sins that went along with it that would damn him. His thoughts had never been less pure, Satan constantly whispering in his ear all the things he could do to his angel, reminding him that he had hands he could use to touch and stroke and caress her, lips that could kiss her and whisper every filthy desire he had, a cock that had been made to pleasure her. The thought of Belle breathless with pleasure because of something he'd done was enough to drive him mad.

Worse was the covetousness, the resentment he felt at knowing he was not the first man in Belle's life. She'd had a husband and then a fiancee, men who she loved, men who were permitted to hold and touch and kiss her, everything that he would never be allowed to do. Belle was not a possession, not something to be owned, but a dark part of him wanted desperately for her to be his.

In his waking dreams he could see Belle wrapped in the arms of a man who was not him although they shared a face. Her bare body pressed full-length against his as she kissed and clung to him, letting him plunder her sweetness, his hands roaming every inch of her. She sighed and moaned, arching into him, letting him touch her everywhere as she caressed him in return, whispering her love for him.

The jealousy nearly blinded him even as his body responded, and he couldn't get the images out of his head. Reaching out, he turned the faucet down as far as it went, hoping the icy water coursing over him would cool his lust. What wouldn't he give to be in that man's place, to have Belle in his arms, soft and sweet and _willing_? It would be worth the sin, worth the betrayal of his vows to have his angel so close.

The cold water was doing nothing to slake his lust, and he nudged the temperature higher, clenching his teeth as he took himself in hand. He'd never allowed himself to think about Belle when he did this, but he was too weak to fight it any longer. What would she say if she could see him like this? What would she say if she walked into the bathroom right now to see him with his cock in his hand and her name on his lips?

"Belle..." he whimpered, imagining her blue eyes upon him, "Forgive me."

"If you were sorry, you'd stop," Belle told him calmly, leaning against the wall of the shower, and he thrust sharply into his hand, overwhelmed by her mere presence.

"I _can't_," he ground out, his grasp on language slipping away as he fondled himself, his strokes rough, "You're so beautiful. So perfect. Belle, I _need_ you. I need my angel. _Please_."

She would deny him, of course she would. Belle was too pure to sin with him. She'd never allow him to put his filthy, unworthy hands on her. "Please," he begged again, almost sobbing with need, and she stepped into the spray with him, the water somehow not touching her as she moved to stand in front of him.

Her lips were softly parted, and he leaned forward helplessly, needing to capture them with his own. Belle's mouth was Heaven, and nothing but her lips could soothe him now. Her lips and the touch of her hand. His cock throbbed at the mere thought that Belle could touch him, and he whimpered, thrusting his hips forward shamelessly. His angel had the power to cure his sinful nature. Just one touch from her hand, the merest brush of her fingers over his aching flesh would be enough to satisfy him eternally. If she'd just touch him, all the lust would pour from his soul, leaving him clean and pure, like her.

Blindly he searched for her mouth, moaning in agony when he couldn't find it. "Please!" he whimpered pathetically, "Kiss... touch... let me touch you..." To bring her pleasure would be the greatest gift he could ever receive, but Belle shook her head.

"Lust is a sin," she breathed, her eyes sympathetic.

"Not lust," he groaned. Nothing they did together could be called lust. Nothing they did together could be sin. "Not lust. _Love_."

Both hands were on his cock now as he thrust frantically, so close to his release that he was seeing stars. "Please, please, please, love, please," he panted, needing her touch to push him over the edge.

"Love," she echoed with a sweet smile, then her fingers glanced over the head of his cock, and it was enough, more than enough. He'd never come so hard, the pleasure reverberating from the tips of his toes to the crown of his head as he made noises like a dying animal, his seed spurting over his hands in endless pulses as Belle gazed at him lovingly.

"Joseph?" Belle's voice came from directly outside the bathroom door, and he blinked his eyes open, his fantasy dissolving, "Did you call me?"

"_Fuck_!" he hissed, searching desperately for a reason he would have been calling her name while he was in the shower. He cleared his throat, struggling to sound like he hadn't just been wanking furiously to thoughts of her, "Uh, yes. Could you put shaving foam on the grocery list?"

"Sure," Belle chirped, and if she thought it odd he'd needed to tell her that immediately instead of waiting until he was done in the bath, she didn't say anything. "Anything else?"

'And then could you join me?' The words were on the tip of his tongue, and he swallowed them down. "No, that's it."

He strained his ears to hear her moving away and released his hold on his cock, grunting as the spray struck his sensitive flesh. He would burn for this, and if there was the slightest hope his fantasy could ever come true, he wouldn't even care. If only there was.

Standing under the rapidly cooling spray, MacAvoy crossed himself. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned..." Although he spoke to God, it was a pair of blue eyes that he longed to see mercy in.


	2. An Earnest Prayer

_Belle accidentally eavesdrops on Joseph's prayers._

It never occurred to her that he didn't realize she was there. As a general rule, Belle cleaned the church every Tuesday and Saturday after Mass, but there had been two baptisms yesterday, and she'd gotten hopelessly behind, deciding to save the work for the morning instead. She'd just ducked into the storage room to change out the candles when she heard him talking, and assuming he was talking to her, she'd listened in.

"…for Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen." she heard and smiled tenderly, realizing he was talking to his god and not to her. She stayed where she was to give him privacy, trying not to eavesdrop until she heard her own name being spoken.

"Thank You for my Belle. Thank You for my angel. Please give us Your blessing. Let me give her a child. Let me make her happy." Her throat tightened at his request, and she was relieved that he really did think what they were doing was not a sin. He'd dismissed his vows, but she'd worried about them.

"Father, please let me keep her. Let us find a way that she can stay. Please don't take her away from me." The desperation in his voice tore at her heart, and tears flooded her eyes, as he begged for a way they could remain together. "_Please_ let me keep her. I _need_ her. Father, she is my life. I cannot let her go. I'll do anything for her, just please. _Please_."

In that moment, Belle would have done anything in her power to grant his request. She would stay with him forever, and they'd have their child and more happiness than she'd ever expected to find again. And then her curse would kill him.

"Father, forgive me for my weakness. Forgive me for my greed. Help me be strong. Help me do what's right for her. Thank You for my Belle. Please help me be worthy of her." Worthy? Oh Joseph. How could he think himself unworthy when he was everything that was good and kind in the world?

She'd never meant for this to happen, never meant to love him, never meant for him to love her in return, and now there was no way out. The last thing she wanted to do was break his heart, but she could not risk his life by staying. Curling her legs beneath her, she sat down on the stone floor and waited for him to finish his prayers, wishing she had someone she could call on for help the way he appealed to his god.

Looking upward, she licked her lips and tried, "Nick? What do I do?"

There was no answer to her question, just a faint sensation of warmth, and for a moment she could almost feel arms around her.


	3. Through Glass

_Joseph notices a store he's never paid attention to before.  
_

He'd never noticed the small shop before, but suddenly it was the only thing on the street that he could see. The front window was painted with nursery rhyme characters, framing a beautiful wooden crib that would look just right in the guest room. They could paint a mural on the walls, some kind of fairytale scene that would suit either a girl or a boy.

Beyond the crib, he could see racks and racks of clothing- tiny and fluffy and precious. More than anything, he wanted to walk in, wanted to explore the wares, handle the tiny outfits and try to picture the baby that would wear them. He could almost see it, all chestnut curls and big blue eyes and chubby pink cheeks, a miniature replica of its mother, and the image made his heart pound in his chest.

He couldn't go in, not dressed like this. It would attract too much attention, so he loitered on the sidewalk, checked his watch, pretended to be waiting, and let his eyes hungrily devour everything he could see inside.

A young couple stood together near the crib, the man's hand resting gently on the woman's swollen belly, her hand on his as they gazed at each other, oblivious to the priest on the other side of the glass who was staring at them. "Please, please," he whispered, folding his hands in front of him, "Father, _please_." That was all he wanted. He wanted that to be him and Belle, together eternally, happy and in love with a baby on the way. He wanted his ring on her finger and hers on his, wanted everyone to know that they belonged to each other, and their baby would complete their perfect little family.

"Father, please," he begged again, "Give us a child. Please let me keep them. Let there be a way."


	4. A Dream of Spring

_Belle daydreams.  
_

Belle smoothed the last wrinkles out of the duvet and retrieved the handful of throw pillows from the floor, arranging them at the head of the bed. She'd bought them several weeks ago in an effort to brighten up the rather monochromatic room, but mostly they just wound up on the floor.

One small, round blue pillow looked positively bedraggled, and she plumped it back up, holding it up for inspection. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror out of the corner of her eye, she realized she was holding it level with her stomach and just for a moment, it looked like…

Giving in to temptation, she slid the pillow beneath her shirt, smoothing the fabric over it, and she was suddenly eight months pregnant. Turning, she admired her profile, trying to imagine what it would feel like to actually carry a child.

A sharp intake of breath made her jump, and her face flushed as she realized Joseph was watching her from the doorway. Before she could remove the pillow, he stumbled forward, his hands trembling as he reached for her. "You look so…" He slid his arm around her waist, his other hand resting on the pillow, fingers splayed possessively as if she really was pregnant and he was laying claim to his child. "You're so beautiful, Belle."

She rested her hand over his and allowed herself to pretend that this was real. Soon it would be. They'd have a baby of their own to adore, and she would be the best mother in the world.


	5. Time Out

_It's not one of their six days, but..._

* * *

It was so hard to remember that he wasn't allowed to touch her. His angel was in his arms, in his bed, and she was so warm and soft and sweet, and he couldn't touch her for another week. So many nights, he'd wake up completely wrapped around her, his hands straying to cup her breasts, his mouth pressed against her throat, his cock throbbing against the curve of her rear. His angel was right there, and he couldn't have her.

Joseph tore himself away with a whimper of agony. The only thing worse than holding her and not being able to do more was not holding her at all. It wasn't sex, had never been sex that he craved. It was Belle. He needed his angel, needed to be pressed against her, needed to kiss and touch and worship her the way she deserved, needed to be inside of her, her precious body welcoming him, making him feel warm and safe and loved. He needed to be _close_ to her.

It wasn't one of their six days though, and he couldn't have what he needed. He should leave their bed, go into the bathroom and take himself in hand, spill his seed to take the edge off the wanting, so he could curl up chastely with his angel and just enjoy having her in his arms. He'd done it so many other nights, but this night he couldn't bring himself to move. He needed to be close to his Belle; he couldn't put more distance between them.

Instead he rolled onto his back, staring blankly up at the ceiling as he willed the desire away, his lips moving in silent prayer, asking forgiveness for his weakness, for the strength to protect his angel from his lust. He closed his eyes in despair as Belle rolled over, murmuring sleepily as she draped herself over his chest, her leg wrapping around his as she cuddled close. She snuggled in, and her knee grazed his straining cock.

Joseph bit his tongue to stifle the sound, but it was too late. His groan made Belle's eyelids flutter, his angel blinking up at him drowsily, "Baby?"

"Go back to sleep," he coaxed, his voice rough, and she just woke up more, shifting against him.

"What's wrong- oh." Her eyes widened as her knee brushed his cock again, and he whimpered in mortification, cursing his body for its crude demand.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "Forgive me, Belle."

"It's okay," she assured him, hugging him close, and that wasn't helping at all. Her breath was warm against his neck, and he was going to lose his mind, balanced on the knife-edge of desire. It was too much and not enough all at the same time, and he couldn't endure this for another moment. He had to either pull her closer or push her away.

He would never be able to push her away.

With desperate strength, he yanked Belle into his arms, burying his face in her hair as he tried to breathe her in, willing the pressure of her body against his to be enough to satisfy him. He couldn't have her, but he could have this, and it had to be enough.

"Baby," Belle murmured, and he looked down at her to see her lips parted and glistening in the moonlight, and he was lost. With a strangled cry, he seized her mouth, gasping in relief when she immediately welcomed him, her tongue stroking against his. Just a kiss. He just needed one kiss, then he'd let her go back to sleep.

His body had other ideas, and before he knew what he was doing, Joseph found himself pushing Belle onto her back, covering her with himself as they moved against each other, his angel shifting so that he was lying between her legs, his cock pressing eagerly against her through two layers of cotton. That made it okay. They weren't really making love; they still had their clothes on. They were just… touching.

With a whine, he pushed against her, barely keeping the presence of mind not to bite her tongue when she wrapped her legs around his hips, keeping him against her. She wanted it too. His angel wanted him too.

He could feel her heat even through their pajama pants, and he'd give anything to be able to strip them off, to bury himself in his angel and be close to her again. He couldn't have that right now, but this was more than he ever dreamed she'd allow him, and he rubbed himself against her frantically, trying to press against the places that she liked.

He couldn't breathe, and he tore his mouth from hers, praying that she wouldn't tell him to stop. Instead, her hands slipped under his tee shirt to caress his back, her neck arching as she rocked her hips against his, the two of them working in tandem to bring each other pleasure. "That's good, baby," she crooned, and he groaned, his mouth finding her neck to plant biting kisses along the elegant column of her throat.

Beneath him, her body was pliant, inviting him closer, and he rubbed harder, desperate to bring her off. She was so wet that he could feel it even through their layers, and he was so close that he was shaking, but his angel was making beautiful, broken little sounds, and he never wanted her to stop.

Clinging to his control with his fingernails, he ground against her, hips jerking in short, sharp thrusts. He caught her lips again, muffling his moans as he rubbed, and rubbed, and _rubbed_. She screamed into his mouth, her nails digging into his shoulders, and Joseph gave in, coming in a burst of pleasure so intense it was almost pain, all but pounding her into the mattress as she wrapped her arms around him and held him close, coaxing him through it.

Sated, yet somehow dissatisfied, he rolled off of her, curling himself protectively around her. He needed to change, they both did, but he couldn't bear to let her go. "My sweet baby," she murmured, her fingers carding through his hair, and he moaned in relief at the warmth in her voice. That was what he'd been missing, that was what he needed.

"My angel," he whispered reverently, snuggling her closer yet until he could feel her heart beating. "I love you so much."

Belle didn't say it back, but she pressed a tender kiss to his lips, and Joseph all but purred in contentment, drifting back into blissful sleep.


	6. In Dreams

_Joseph dreams._

* * *

_The soft whimper shouldn't have been enough to wake him, yet it did, his hands finding Belle's side of the bed cold. That was enough to snap him fully out of sleep, and he followed the quiet sounds to what was once Belle's room. It had another purpose now._

_They'd spent weeks painting the nursery with her doing the outlines and him filling in with the colors, doing his best to stay within the lines as he watched his angel like a hawk to be certain she didn't overexert herself. The effect was striking; their son now inhabited a forest glen, his crib surrounded by friendly trees and the occasional neatly-dressed beast._

_The baby seemed less than interested in his magical environment, but Joseph assumed he'd grow into it. For now, nothing existed in the boy's universe except for his mother, and he could certainly relate._

_"Life, to me, is like an apple tree…" Belle sang quietly to the baby, accompanying herself with the creak of the rocking chair, and he peered around the doorframe, his heart clenching at the sight that greeted his eyes. His angel gazed lovingly down at the tiny bundle in her arms, her loose nightgown unbuttoned and pushed to the side so the baby could nurse._

_As though sensing his presence, she glanced up, her blue eyes so filled with love that it took his breath away. Without hesitation, he came to kneel at her side, pressing a soft kiss to her bare breast and another to the baby's head, asking God to bless the pair of them, to keep them always safe and protected._

_The baby suckled hungrily, making little grunting noises, and they both chuckled at the sound, helplessly besotted with the miracle in her arms. Between the two of them, they'd created life, and nothing could ever be more holy than this._

Joseph stirred, his hand striking the wall as he rolled over, and he blinked, trying to figure out where he was. After a moment, he recognized his own familiar bed, and he rolled back over to wrap his arm around Belle, reality cutting through the wonderful dream.

He splayed his hand over her flat stomach to pull her into him, and she snuggled closer. There was no baby, not yet. They'd been trying for months, but he wasn't about to give up. They just had to keep at it. "Father, please help us conceive. Please give us a child," he whispered into the still air. Burying his face in her curls, Joseph prayed for the child they longed for, hoping his dream had been a vision.


	7. Something Borrowed

_Joseph and Belle babysit._

* * *

Joseph wasn't sure what possessed him to offer, but the young mother was clearly at the end of her tether, sick with a nasty head cold with a colicky baby, and some instinct told him that if he left them alone, something bad would happen.

Which was how he found himself standing in the middle of the living room, trying to soothe a screaming infant when Belle let herself into the house, struggling with the groceries. He automatically moved to help her, only remembering their guest when the baby wailed louder. His angel stopped just inside the door to stare at him. "Did I miss something?"

He explained as quickly as possible, struggling to be heard over the baby, and despite his fraught nerves, he still basked in Belle's approving smile. "You did the right thing," she assured him, reaching to take the child from his arms, settling her on her shoulder like she'd done it a thousand times.

"My friend Ruby had a little girl, and I watched her sometimes," she explained when she noticed him staring at her. She rubbed the tiny back and patted the diaper-clad rump, the baby's wails easing into sobbing hiccups and then silence as the little girl nuzzled her face into Belle's neck.

Belle turned her head to kiss the baby's forehead, and Joseph forgot how to breathe. Nothing had ever looked more right than his angel with a baby in her arms, and it took next to no effort to imagine it was their baby she was holding, their little girl.

This was their future, and he was so eager for it that he could almost taste it. Somehow he'd convince her to stay, and they'd be a family- a _perfect_ family- the two of them and their baby, and they'd be so, so happy. Watching this little one made for good practice, and Joseph soon lost himself in his fantasy, imagining life the way it should be: the pair of them married and starting a family of their very own.

Caring for the baby was exhausting work, although nothing had ever been quite so fulfilling, and he blamed his exhaustion for what happened at bedtime, Belle giving the baby over to him to hold while she climbed into bed beside him. He fussed over her as Belle settled in beside him, cooing at her dainty features before relinquishing her, "Here you go, sweetheart, go to Mummy."

Belle caught her breath, looking at him with wide-eyes and he cursed his thoughtless words. "I-"

Reaching out, she took the baby from him, whispering, "Say good night to Daddy, sweetheart."

Warmth flooded him, tears pricking at his eyes as he wrapped his arms around both of them. It wasn't real, but it was a beautiful dream, and she was dreaming the same things. "Someday," he promised, his voice thick, and Belle leaned up to brush her lips against his.

"Someday," she agreed.


	8. Healing Hands

_Joseph hurts his back. Belle makes him feel better._

When Belle heard the front door open, she called a greeting, surprised when Joseph's voice didn't answer her. He always said hello before he'd even gotten his coat off. Concerned, she ducked out of the office to see him standing in the entranceway, face pale as he stared at the closet door like it had personally offended him.

He was making no move to take his coat off, and she approached him slowly. "Joseph?"

He jerked his head to look at her, lines of pain etched around his mouth as he tried to smile for her. "Sorry! Hi."

"Baby, what's wrong?" she asked in dismay, darting to his side. Beads of sweat were dotted along his hairline, his breathing harsh.

"Helped move some boxes. Just wrenched my back a little," he explained, his voice breathless.

From the look of him, he'd done more than wrench it a little. Joseph sighed in relief when she eased his coat off his shoulders and hung it up for him, his jacket following immediately.

Between helping when Rumpelstiltskin's knee played up and assisting TJ in the infirmary, this was something Belle could handle. "Can you make it up the stairs?" she asked.

"Maybe?" he said doubtfully, and she could see how stiffly and awkwardly he was moving as he slowly made his way across the living room to the stairs. She left his side long enough to retrieve a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and a towel, catching up with him before he'd even attempted the stairs.

There wasn't much she could do to help as he clung to the bannister for support, so she stuck close to his side, braced to catch him if he stumbled. Somehow they managed to reach the second floor, although he lost even more color on the way.

"Oh, my poor baby," she crooned, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as her hands busied themselves with getting him out of his shirt. He helped her as much as he could, wincing with every movement. "Let's get some aspirin in you."

She retrieved the pills from the bathroom, and he swallowed them quickly, taking only a sip of the water she'd brought him. "Hurts to move my head," he admitted when she tried to coax him into drinking more, and Belle let the matter drop.

Getting him out of his shoes and trousers was a production. She ended up undoing his belt, letting the fabric pool around his feet as he shuffled closer to the bed, managing to get himself lying face down on it. She pulled off his shoes and socks, tossing his trousers to the floor before trailing her hand gently over his back. "Tell me where it hurts."

A pained grunt directed her to a spot just above his right hip, and she kissed his shoulder blade in apology as she probed at it as gently as she could, his muffled groan filling her with guilt. Nothing seemed out of place, she realized with relief, kissing the sore place. "I think you pulled a muscle."

"No kidding," he grumbled into the pillow, and Belle choked back a laugh. For all his sweetness, apparently Joseph was as grouchy as any other man when he was in pain.

She wrapped the frozen peas in the towel and arranged it carefully on his back, checking the clock. "Twenty minutes."

His muttered response was lost to the pillow, and she snickered, curling up beside him to stroke his hair. "Take deep breaths, baby," she coaxed, "Try to relax."

They sat in silence for long minutes as she petted him, hoping the cold was bringing down the inflammation. Seeing Joseph in pain hurt her heart, but there was little she could do for a pulled muscle.

When the twenty minutes were up, she kissed the top of his head. "How are you doing, baby?"

He turned his head enough to be comprehensible as he sighed, "I'm sorry."

Belle tapped his nose affectionately. Joseph's rare show of bad temper had nothing on Nick in one of his _good_ moods. She was opening her mouth to tell him so when he continued, "I'm sorry I'm so... old."

"Baby..." she breathed in dismay, tossing the ice pack onto the nightstand before snuggling down beside him. "You're not old."

His bitter laugh didn't reassure her. "I'm almost fifty, and you're barely out of your twenties. I'm sorry, angel."

"Hush," she murmured, kissing his lips to force him to be silent. "My husband was fifty-two when we got married, and Nick was forty-nine when I met him. You're actually the _youngest_ man I've ever been with."

"Really?" he brightened a bit at her words, and she kissed him again.

"Besides, I'm officially closer to forty than I am to my twenties. I think we're both exactly the right age," she concluded, relieved when that won her a smile, small but genuine. "You just feel old because you're hurting. Let me help."

Belle moved to straddle his thighs, making sure not to put too much pressure on him as she rested her hands over the sore spot, letting her body heat soothe the ache. Beneath her, Joseph made a soft little noise that wasn't quite pain, and she started to massage gently, just enough to encourage blood flow so he'd heal more quickly.

"Is this all right, baby?" she murmured, and he answered her with a sigh. Smiling to herself, she kept going, gradually working her way out from the pulled muscle to the rest of his back, applying more pressure. Under her fingers, she could feel how tense he was, his other muscles working too hard to compensate. "Nice deep breaths," she reminded him, using her body weight to work out some of the kinks.

A smothered groan met her ears, and Belle stopped at once. "Am I hurting you?"

"Don't stop!" he pleaded, and she smiled tenderly down at him, leaning just a little harder as she pushed the heels of her palms up his spine, feeling him growing looser with every stroke.

"Sweet baby," she murmured fondly, concentrating her attention on his neck. She gently probed the place where his neck met his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. No wonder it hurt to move his head. Her poor Joseph was completely done up. "You kept working after you hurt your back, didn't you?"

"They needed help," he defended weakly, and Belle wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry. Of course Joseph would ignore his own needs in order to help someone else. She didn't know why she was surprised.

"You'll take it easy until you feel better," she directed, and he didn't argue with her. The damage was already done, but at least she should be able to stop him from hurting himself again. Exerting firm pressure, she dragged her fingers down his neck, repeating the motion until she felt the tension ease.

"There we go," she crooned, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, and Joseph groaned like she was torturing him. Only then did Belle realized she'd draped herself over his back, no doubt putting uncomfortable pressure on his pulled muscle. "Oh baby, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, quickly getting off of him, and he groaned louder.

"No, please... _please_...!" he gritted out, his face tight with what looked like pain, but pain had never sounded like _that_. As she swept her gaze over him, she noticed the way he was pressing his hips down, rubbing himself against the bed.

Apparently she'd made him feel _much_ better.

It wasn't one of their six days, and there was no way they could make love with him done up like this, but there were other options. "Roll over on your side, baby," she breathed, and he obeyed, allowing her to spoon up behind him. "Does that feel okay?"

"Angel, please!" he begged, and Belle had a feeling that the pain in his back was the last thing on his mind. Reaching down she cupped him through his boxers, feeling him buck against her hand. Normally Joseph was patient in bed, and she rather liked this new, desperate version.

She eased his boxers down and wrapped her hand around him, his heat searing her fingers. "That's it, baby," she crooned, nibbling on the shell of his ear.

"Belle... Belle... _Angel_..." he moaned, and she let her free hand explore his chest, playing with his nipples as she started to stroke him.

She tried not to let him move too much, concerned he'd aggravate his injury, but Joseph was pushing eagerly into her touch, his soft groans filling the room. When she pinched his nipple between thumb and forefinger, he cried out, arching back into her, and she nuzzled his throat as she trailed her hand down his chest to rub his quivering stomach. "Easy, baby. Just let it feel good."

Joseph laughed breathlessly. "Oh, it does."

Her hand strayed lower, cradling his balls as she stroked him, loving how hard and hot he was in her hand, knowing that only she affected him this way. "Do you ever do this?" she asked, suddenly curious. Surely Joseph had the same desires as any other man, but they shared a bed, and she'd never had a hint that he'd been touching himself.

"Some... sometimes," he confessed, and she could feel his blush under her lips.

The hesitant word sent a flood of heat through her, and she couldn't resist pushing for more. "Tell me?"

His cock pulsed in her hand, and she picked up her pace the tiniest bit as he rasped. "The shower. Sometimes... in the shower."

Belle hummed at the thought of Joseph standing in the spray of water, his cock in his hand. "What do you think about?"

"You!" he gasped, and she scraped her teeth gently over his pulse point. "I... I think about how beautiful you are... how it feels to be inside you... how you sound when I'm pleasing you..."

She moaned at the words, and he thrust into her hand. "_Angel_... I pretend it doesn't have to be a secret... that I can kiss you in front of everyone... in front of Ben..."

She'd had no idea that Joseph was still jealous over Ben, and knowing that he was shouldn't turn her on so much. "I never did this with him," she reminded him, and he grunted, picking up his pace. "Is that your favorite fantasy, baby? Tell me your favorite."

Belle nuzzled his jaw, tasting heat and lust and the faintest hint of stubble against her lips, the prickling sensation incredibly erotic as they worked together to bring him pleasure. Joseph thrust rhythmically into her hand, all thought of back pain gone as she moved with him, rubbing her thumb over the head of his cock with every stroke, feeling the telltale wetness that showed her just how close he was.

"You... you had a bad day," he panted, and she had to concentrate to make out the words as his accent thickened. "You're tired, so I run you a bath. You let me stay with you, bathe you, wash your hair... You let me brush it for you afterwards, and I take you to bed... Then you... you..."

"What, baby?" she murmured, craning her neck so she could kiss the corner of his mouth, and Joseph groaned like she was killing him.

"You tell me to take care of you... to make you feel good... I kiss you for _hours_... touch and lick and use my mouth on you over and over again..." He was moaning with every breath, barely comprehensible, and she stroked him more firmly, feeling the fine trembling that heralded his climax.

"You... you let me do _everything _for you... You..." His fantasy dissolved into desperate groans, and she pressed her thumb against the sensitive spot right under the head, feeling him tense in her embrace as sticky heat bathed her fingers. Belle kept stroking him, easing him through it, trying to give him as much pleasure as she could as she trailed biting kisses down his neck.

"Oh, angel..." he moaned, slumping back against her, and she smiled against his throat, cuddling him close.

"How's your back?" she asked softly, and he chuckled.

"Never better." Turning his head, they brushed their lips together, Belle tracing her tongue over his bottom lip.

"I like your fantasy," she told him, and his face lit with a shy smile. It felt wonderful to care for Joseph, but the thought of letting him care for her had its own appeal. As they snuggled in to sleep, Belle made a mental note to have a bad day sometime in the very near future.


End file.
